The Anti-Spud League
by Stratagem
Summary: Mark explains a little about why he doesn't eat potatoes to his friends' daughter. Now expanded to further short stories about Chris and Beth Beck's daughter Callie.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own The Martian!

 _ **The Anti-Spud League**_

"Uncle Mark?"

He glanced down at the six-year-old girl sitting on the picnic blanket beside him, her blue eyes squinted at him as if she was trying to figure him out. Callie Beck had a pretty impressive stare. She'd definitely inherited it from her mom, seeing how Beth had that penetrating, I-will-see-beyond-this look down pat.

Mark and Callie had come to Central Park today to hang out and spend the day together before she started first grade later that week and before he had to go back home to Florida. There had been a lot of meetings to attend, and he hadn't gotten to see as much of her and her parents as he would've liked. Next time he was just going to claim vacation time, steal Callie from school like a true American hero, and go see Wicked and Lion King with her until their eyeballs popped out of their heads.

"Yeah, squirt?"

"How come you never get French fries?"

Scattered around them were the remains of a smorgasbord of food truck goodies, including her own plate of chili cheese fries. He shrugged and reached around her to grab one of their take-out trays.

"'Cause there're so many other things to eat besides fries. Like this super healthy deep-fried taco."

Like usual, that wasn't a satisfactory answer for the overly curious kid. "Momma says it's because you hate potatoes."

"That's true, too."

"Why?"

He didn't know if he wanted to get into this right now. Chris and Beth had told Callie about the Mars mission, mainly because she needed to know why they all got stalked by psycho paparazzi now and then, but it wasn't like she knew any details. And he didn't really want to be the Man from Mars to her. He just wanted to be Uncle Mark, the cool guy that showed up every few months and spoiled her rotten. Still, he knew he couldn't keep it from her forever.

"Well…" He took a huge bite out of his taco and grinned close-lipped at her as he chewed, buying himself some time.

Callie rolled her eyes like she was sixteen instead of six and nibbled at her churro, almost letting her intricate dark brown braid touch the cream cheese sauce. It was hard to believe that the kid was six already. When she was born, she had been so small, no one was sure if she would make it. But here she was, about to be a first grader and more famous than most kids in the world.

Being the first and currently only child ever conceived in space had that effect.

"What about mashed potatoes?"

"Nope," he said around the remains of the taco.

"Baked?"

"Nein."

She licked the sugar off her fingers. "Tater tots?"

"Nyet."

"You really don't like any potatoes at all?"

He shook his head. "They're…let's just say, I had my fill of them." Reaching over, he poked at her tray of chili cheese fries, scooting them a little closer to her. "See, once upon a time, we were the best of friends, me and potatoes. Then me and taters hung out too much, got too close and spent too much time together. Watched too many reruns of Three's Company together. Discoed one too many times."

Callie laughed and wrinkled her nose as she flopped back against the blanket. "You can't be friends with potatoes, Uncle Mark."

"Hey, what's our motto?"

"Don't say 'can't'," she answered automatically, "But you can't—"

"These were special potatoes. Anyways, after time together, we went our separate ways, never to meet again."

"Sooo…" Callie rolled over onto her stomach. "You ate too many of them?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Later she could find out that potatoes were the only thing keeping him alive for all that time. He owed a lot to the spuds, but he never wanted to eat another one as long as he lived.

Potatoes would just taste like loneliness and cold and inventive desperation.

Like Mars.

"I did that with chocolate pudding," Callie was saying, her high-tops kicking in the air. "They had pudding cups in the snack area when we went to that space conference this summer, and I ate so many I got sick." She grinned at him. "I hate pudding now."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at her and reached over to tickle her side. "You're so weeeeird."

"You're the weirdest!"

"That's hurtful," he said, putting his hand over his heart before smirking at her. He noticed some people heading toward them and sighed. Hey, at least it took longer than usual. They had been found again. The paparazzi were relentless. While he normally could deal with being followed around and photographed, he didn't like it when they tried to get pictures of Callie. He also knew that Chris and Beth preferred to keep her out of the spotlight when they could. "Come on, let's clean up and head over to the zoo or something."

She looked over at people, too, and made a little frustrated noise. "Okay...can we visit the monkeys first?"

"Sure, but I thought you liked the red panda things the best."

"I do, but monkeys throw poo, right? My friend Carter said so." Her eyes crinkled with mischief. "They could hit the paparazzi people!"

Mark grinned right back at her. "You have a good brain, Callie Beck. Don't let the zombies eat it."

"Never. They can eat potatoes."

Sometimes it felt like Callie was the only one who got him.

They were the only aliens on the planet, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own The Martian!

A/N: Since so many people seem to enjoy this, I've decided to write a little more about Callie and the Ares crew! I hope that's okay with everyone. :) Also, I'm letting the point-of-view jump around with this because I'm being lazy. Yay third-person omniscient!

 **That One Day**

"Put that down, you'll spoil your appetite."

Callie reluctantly dropped the frosted sugar cookie back into the jar that she had been stealthily stealing from and shot her mom a penitent look. "I was just making sure they tasted good and weren't burnt." She bent down and patted the head of her nine-week-old corgi puppy, Houston.

At the kitchen table, Beth glanced up from the tablet she was working on. "Are you trying to say something about my baking?"

"Nothing more than Daddy says…"

Beth lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, and what exactly does Daddy say?"

"Hey, hey, no, leave me out of it," Chris called from the living room. He wasn't going to be dragged into this battle of wills between his wife and daughter. Especially when the kid was trying to throw him under the bus.

"Too late, you've already been brought up, and in a very negative light, Dr. Beck," Beth said, her tone playfully condemning, "You can't back out now."

Chris gave a sigh as he shoved off the couch and walked over to lean against the doorframe of the kitchen. "For the record, it was involuntary. I'm in this conversation under protest." He looked over at Callie and pointed a finger at her before mouthing, ' _Your fault_ ,' at her.

"Protest all you want, but you're going to tell me exactly what's wrong with my baking."

Chris winked at Callie before crossing his arms and frowning at Beth. "I call foul on this inquisition."

Callie grinned and scratched Houston's ears as he leaned against her leg. She really did want a cookie before lunch, but it didn't look as if that was going to happen. If Uncle Mark was inside instead of out on the dock, he would've snuck her a cookie. Actually he had been out there a long time.

When they had gotten to the lake house last night, he had already been there, and he had seemed okay, though a little quiet. But this morning, he had gone outside and stayed out on the dock. Both of her parents had gone outside at different times and talked to him for a little while, but they came back inside pretty quick. She wandered over to the big window-door that led out to the back porch and tapped lightly against the glass.

"When's Uncle Mark coming back inside?" she asked suddenly, interrupting her parent's continued bantering.

Chris and Beth looked at each other, both wondering exactly what they should tell Callie. The other years they had come here with Mark, she had been too young to remember the trips. Lewis had covered last year, and Martinez had come the year before that. This day was hard for all of them, but if was certainly terrible for Mark. No counselor on Earth had totally figured out how to get someone to deal with being left behind on an alien planet. The Ares 3 mission crew had figured out that it was best to make sure someone was at least watching out for him and that he was in a green, watery place, like the lake house.

"He'll come in when he's ready," Chris said, his eyes softening as he followed his daughter's gaze.

Callie tapped the glass door again. "Can I take him a cookie?"

"Are you sure you're not going to eat it on the way?" Beth asked.

"No…" Callie's blue eyes glinted with mischief. "But you could give me one too, just to make sure."

"I don't know," Chris said, crossing his arms, thinking about how Mark might not want Callie to see him looking so vulnerable. Chris knew that Mark liked knowing that they were right there if he wanted them but he also didn't want to seem like a burden.

"I don't think it'll hurt," Beth said, meeting Chris' eyes. Mark liked Callie a lot, and if he didn't want her around, he would send her back to the house as nicely as possible. And if he did want the company, it might be good for him.

"All right, then." Chris headed over to the kitchen counter and pulled a couple cookies out of the jar before turning around and going through the fridge. As he started setting out apples and carrots and oranges, Callie sighed.

"Aw, Daddy…"

"I didn't say you couldn't have the cookie." He set a couple water bottles on the table. "I'm just saying that you have to have something else with it that isn't full of sugar. Plus maybe you can get Mark to eat something."

That made her perk up. "He likes caramel with his apples."

"Yeah, well, he's going to have to settle for peanut butter." That way he would get a little protein. Chris gathered all the food into a bundle and packed it into a small bag from the cabinet. "Here, pumpkin. See if you can get him to drink one of the water bottles."

"Okay." Callie darted over and took the bag from her dad. "Ew, you put celery in here. Ultra gross."

He ruffled her hair and then gently bopped his knuckles against her cheek. "Go on, and take Houston with you."

"Fineee." She gave a breathy whistle, and Houston trotted after her as she went out the glass sliding door, his stubby legs working double time to keep up with her. Chris watched from the door, smiling a little as Callie eventually bent down and picked him up.

Callie headed down the stairs and out to the dock, knowing that her parents were probably both watching. It wasn't like she was going to fall into the water or anything, and if she did, she could swim thanks to the lessons at the YMCA in her community. But her parents were always looking out for her.

The dock creaked as she stepped onto the warm planks, her light blue converses tapping against the wood. Uncle Mark didn't look away from staring at the water when she stepped up beside him, but that was okay. Even though her parents thought she didn't know, Callie did understand that today was a tough day for her uncle. She had remembered from the documentary that she and her friend Jon had secretly watched last week that today was the day her uncle had been accidentally left behind on Mars. She guessed that would make a person really upset, which was part of why she didn't want him to be all by himself.

Settling down beside Uncle Mark, Callie put the plastic bag on her other side. Houston plopped down on the other side of Uncle Mark, resting his head on his paws. She hoped he didn't fall in. Corgis weren't really great swimmers, and Houston's legs were so stumpy.

Sunlight rippled across the lake's surface, and clouds were showing up as pretty reflections in the water. Out on the lake, someone was putting around on a pontoon boat while a couple older kids were splashing around in a rowboat. Callie's dad had said that they could go out in a canoe later, if the weather stayed nice.

Reaching into the bag, Callie pulled out the cookies and set one on Uncle Mark's knee before setting a water bottle next to him. He had his shoes off, and his feet were in the water. His cheeks looked wet, like he had been crying. She bit her lip. Her uncle was the bravest person she knew besides her mom and dad, and it scared her to see him crying.

Gently, she wrapped both her arms around one of his and hugged him tight. She didn't know how to make it better besides a hug.

After a few quiet minutes that felt like forever, he twisted and hugged her back, his forehead resting against the top of her head briefly. Then he gave a little laugh that ruffled her dark hair.

"Did you bring me a cookie?"

"Yep," she said, nodding against his shoulder, "Frosted sugar cookie."

"Thatta girl," he said, giving her another hug. He pulled away and put his hands against the planks of the dock before leaning back. His smile seemed tired but not fake. That was good. "That's my favorite."

"You say that about every cookie." She smiled a little and nudged his bottle of water toward him. "Daddy wants you to drink this."

"Your dad's a worrywart," Uncle Mark said, but he still took a few long sips from the bottle. With a deep sigh, he looked around the lake and then back at her. "It's a nice day out."

"It's pretty." The sky was a really nice blue, and the water looked all shimmery. On Uncle Mark's other side, Houston let out a huff and rolled over, already asleep. Uncle Mark smirked a little and ran his fingers over the puppy's fur. "Are you coming in soon?"

"Yeah, probably," he said, "I just…need more time."

"I can stay with you, if you want," she said, pulling her legs to her so she could sit criss-cross-applesauce.

"You don't have to. I don't want you to get bored, small fry."

"I won't." She grinned at him. "I can play with Houston. And teach you that game I learned at school! And you can tell me what the plants are around here. Like the kinds you can eat?"

Uncle Mark looked at her for a while and finally nodded. "All right, then. If you wanna."

She nodded. "Yep. I wanna." Callie didn't want him to sit out here all by himself, and she was good at keeping people company. She poked at her water bottle. "Drink more water."

Mark laughed a little and reached over to ruffle her hair before picking up the water bottle again. "Yes, ma'am, Little Ms. Dr. Beck, ma'am."


End file.
